Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Algeria and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Offenders to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Tom Boy. All the underground hits.
All Pierre Henry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stockholm Monsters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Skatalites record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yellowson,
Saccharine Trust,
Shoche,
Pylon,
Television Personalities,
the Bar-Kays,
Public Enemy,
Graham Central Station,
The Move,
ABC,
Ultra Naté,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Model 500,
Delon & Dalcan,
Oblivians,
Circle Jerks,
David Axelrod,
The Remains,
Pet Shop Boys,
Electric Prunes,
The Count Five,
Lucky Dragons,
Girls At Our Best!,
Rotary Connection,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Last Poets,
Mark Hollis,
Peter and Kerry,
Todd Rundgren,
Funkadelic,
Faust,
Robert Hood,
Mo-Dettes,
Pulsallama,
David Bowie,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bush Tetras,
Kenny Larkin,
Vainqueur,
the Swans,
Terry Callier,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Popol Vuh,
Mr. Review,
Joe Finger,
Little Man,
Suburban Knight,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Lindisfarne,
cv313,
Donny Hathaway,
Yusef Lateef,
The Star Department,
Lebanon Hanover,
In Retrospect,
Icehouse,
Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.